


the big light in the sky (and the darkness of age)

by constanted



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Aliens!, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Carpentry! Yelling!, F/M, Gen, Julia Rushes In, Like... The Biggest Possible Canon Divergence, Mild Sexual Content, Miscommunication, The Bulwark Staff, The Raven's Roost Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 18:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16224797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constanted/pseuds/constanted
Summary: The day the aliens show up, Julia’s mouth tastes like blood.(or: four birds fly away)





	the big light in the sky (and the darkness of age)

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhh so. this au got stuck in my head while i was relistening to eleventh hour. this is maybe the eighth version.
> 
> rated m for death/violence, sex, alcohol, and implied ptsd in a lot of forms. 
> 
> more notes at the end.

When Julia Waxmen was young, she wanted to travel the world. She read comic books, listened to bard-songs about the journeys of heroes, and decided, that’ll be me. The Raven Queen honors adventurers, grants them Reaper status--she could be like the pretty half-elf man who watches over the temple, who keeps the world in balance, just like the stories say.

When Julia Waxmen was young, her fathers decided to forge her two knives, and teach her how to fight. 

 

-

 

The day the aliens show up, Julia’s mouth tastes like blood.

She’s also drunk, which is perhaps more notable, and she’s just been in a fight, which fills in the timeline between those two facts. Beow kicked her out of the Whistling Sky, told her to go home, and she’s moping outside of it while she waits for Rhiannon, who was asleep until about five minutes ago, to show up.

And then, she sees it—silver in the sky, not quite steady, but moving, and coming closer.  She tries to follow it—it’s not going so fast. So she follows it—runs and runs as it shakily approaches the rock formation on the bridge across from her, spits blood into the valley as it keeps pooling, and then—

She stops, right as it lands, its doors opening with a gust—her hair leaves her shoulders, and—she squints, to focus. Everything’s still blurry, still fuzzy, but—

It’s a boat, made of glowing silver, and it was  _ flying _ , and at its doors, there are three people who look terrified.

She swallows the blood in her throat.

The day the aliens show up, Julia left her daggers at home. 

She regrets that, of course, considering that there are three strangers, half-covered in shadow, one of whom is clearly armed with a glaive, or something like that. She’s not quite sober enough to get into fighting stance, but she tries, and one of the strangers—unarmed, the shortest but burliest of the three—takes two steps forward.

And then, the door closes.

 

-

 

She wakes up with a hangover and a reminder from her father that the rally is today. The militia is cooperating in the loosest sense of the term, present but not interfering, barring violence, which—per their definition, is a word delivered too rudely. She knows there’s a rat, that’s the only reason the militia’s  _ involved _ , and—

Fuck, she didn’t even prepare her speech.

The box she’s placed in the middle of the Corridor’s forum is painted black, and then enchanted stone she’s using to project her voice is perfectly smooth. She’s good at hodgepodge. Good at grassroots. 

Mostly, she’s good at pretending that this broken nose doesn’t hurt like hell.

“We cannot let our town be ruled by those who do not care for us,” she says, measured, as people start to stop and stare, “Who only seek power and who relish in the pain of others.”

She makes eye contact with a stranger. A human man, maybe her age. He’s dressed in clothes too warm for the weather, a jacket and a large scarf, and he looks familiar in a way she can’t quite place.

“We cannot let ourselves ruled by those who spy on us, who bully us—“

He raises his fist, touches it to his heart. Old symbol for  _ solidarity,  _ only ever seen in comic books and old paintings. Julia keeps staring.

“—who refuse to let us live as we are.”

A guard, behind the stranger, grabs his sword. People around him start to disperse, but the stranger does not.

Julia pauses, says, “Who abuses his power to strike fear in our hearts, we  _ cannot _ let ourselves be brutalized by a despot!”

The guard grabs the stranger, holds him in a headlock. Julia doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. People are running, screaming.

The stranger draws a knife, and, with quick, rushed maneuvers that seem far more competent than some odd-looking kid with a carving knife can be capable of, he knicks the guard down and out.

He nods at Julia, and he walks away. She thinks, this is important, but she doesn’t quite know why.

 

-

 

She tries to stop thinking about the boat, about the stranger, about everything. She goes to temple, prays. The Relic Wars had been hard on Raven’s Roost. Her dad’s husband—her  _ father _ , she thinks; she keeps depersonalizing it, but Corrine the priestess says that’s unhealthy—had passed in an incident with the Staff six months ago. The Raven Queen considers these deaths unnatural and cruel, and she is supporting the community that bears her name in exchange for worship.

Julia asks, though, about the ship. The feathers floating in front of her do not give her the answer she needs. She stares at them, for a moment, and they still float.

So, she leaves temple, and walks back to the ship. She’d expected to have heard about it around town, by now, or to see some dumbass teenagers crowded around it doing dumb shit. At the very  _ least _ . Or, for it to have been something she imagined in a drunken stupor.

But, no, it’s still just standing there, alone, like it’s always been there. 

She knocks, despite the strangeness.

“Hail and well met,” deadpans an elf, at the door—the one who was holding a sword or something last night. Second-tallest. 

“Bit of an archaic phrase,” she deadpans right back, “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“So I’m stuck here with  _ two  _ people who can’t do shit right, then,” and then, mumbled, “Homeboy heard it in the middle of the damn desert, thought it was hip youth slang.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, that wasn’t about you, darling, that was about my fucking—coworkers.”

There’s something off about this elf that she can't place, something in his eyes or in his posture that feels  _ wrong _ , that doesn’t look a thing like any elf she’s met before.

“You’re a tiefling,” he says, casually, “I haven’t seen many of ‘em in Faerûn.”

“We’re not so common. You’re not from Faerûn, then.”

“Solid eh on that one.” He talks a lot with his hands, still doesn’t ask for a name or anything. He’s  _ pretty _ , she can’t help but think, like an actor in a Neverwinter play or a comic-book-sidekick. Wears a lot of jewels, keeps his hair in a loose braid, “Why the hell are you here?”

“I saw you land last night. You and your friends. And I wanted to know why.”

The elf walks away, and Julia is almost offended until she realizes that he left the doors wide open.

 

-

 

She can hear, distantly, “You know, drawing attention our way just because Mags said he felt bad isn’t gonna help me trust you again.” from the elf.

“Mags was in  _ charge  _ of erasing us, Taako, remember? _ He _ took the fish.”

“ _ Sure. _ He back from his fuckin’ jaunt yet, or do we have another Merle sitch on our hands?”

Julia finds them quickly, sees the elf arguing with a human woman—alarmingly tall, alarmingly young. The woman is splayed out on a couch, spinning a pen in her hands.

“Hello?” she says, as an introduction, “I asked you a question, and—“

“Oh my  _ God _ , you go after  _ me  _ for drawing attention, and you leave the—you’re the girl from last night, right?” the woman asks.

“Uh. Yes.”

“ _ Excellent.  _ No fuckin’ ability to read social cues here, either, breakin’ into our place. Good job picking a town, Lucretia,” the elf sighs, throws his hands above his head. 

And then, the fucking  _ stranger  _ from earlier pops in, says, “Why was the door op— _ you!” _

“Welcome back, Maggie,” the girl—Lucretia?—says, “The girl from last night found us because apparently, you  _ documented _ wrong.”

“I documented exactly as much as I needed to!” he defends, “Which was. Uh. Nothing. I thought it’d be nice to have an ally down here. And since it’s you—Julia, right?”

“Right,” she nods, trying to put the pieces of this conversation together.

“She’s a really cool person, guys. Really smart, and she’s, like—really involved in the community, and I beat up a cop in front of her earlier also.”

Julia can’t help but laugh, but she’s charmed. This boy, Maggie(?), has that same ethereal quality as his coworkers, that same otherworldliness, and she opens her mouth to ask what she assumes is the dumbest thing she will ever say in her life. “Are you guys aliens?”

“Yes,” say Maggie and the elf, whilst Lucretia rolls her eyes and says, “No.”

“Oh, come on,” says Maggie, “Are we from this planet?”

“Not technically,” Lucretia sighs, “But also, it’s more nuanced than just—aliens.”

“Was it nuanced when you tried to—“

“Taako, not everything is a gateway to a dig against Lucretia. She deserves maybe seventy-percent of the digs, but this ain’t one of ‘em.”

Okay. Maggie, Taako, Lucretia. Human, elf, human. Tall, taller, tallest. Alien, alien, alien with  _ nuance _ .

She offers them her name. Says that their spaceship is a lot cozier than she expected, and, bam, there, she’s out-dumbed herself.  It’s warm in here, warm as a hot summer day in Raven’s Roost, and maybe that’s why Maggie was dressed for winter, earlier. She takes off her jacket.

“Cool knife,” says Maggie, seeing the sheath on her belt.

“Yeah, yours was pretty lame earlier.”

“You beat up a cop with your  _ carving knife _ ,” Lucretia says, and Taako starts laughing with her.

“Magnus Fucking Burnsides, you are a caricature of yourself.”

 

-

 

The thing about Magnus Fucking Burnsides is that he’s nicer than his coworkers, who he calls his siblings. Apparently, Taako is angry at the world in general, and is therefore, quote, “being a dick to literally everyone.”

The thing about Julia Fucking Waxmen, though, is that she  _ gets  _ that, gets anger like she gets the impact of a hammer on a nail, gets it like she gets the swing of a sword.

“Raven’s Roost doesn’t take too well to strangers,” she says, instead of this, “Since the wars started, we’ve been kinda closed off. And Kalen doesn’t help.”

“He sounds like a shithead,” Magnus says.

“Bit reductive, but sure.”

“Who’s Kalen?” Taako asks, “He the cop Maggie beat up?”

“He’s our Governor. I’m actually surprised you got in past his wards.”

“Luke’s a ward genius.”

“I wouldn’t say  _ genius _ ,” she laughs, “More like master.”

Lucretia talks in soft, nervous tones, but with a certain with potential energy behind them. Julia can’t tell too much about her, not from body language, not from anything, but she seems like a leader. Like, in spite of the clear animosity she’s gathered from her friends, brothers, colleagues, whatever, she’s the one they’ll go to for answers. Taako bloviates, jokes and bites his way through each clause of each sentence like it’s nothing, like it’s a monologue, like it’s a dance. Lucretia is a politician, Taako is a performer, and Maggie—

Well, Maggie is something else entirely. Julia kind of likes that.

 

-

 

Julia does not have very many friends.

She thinks she has them now, though.

 

-

 

Taako is drawing something out on the table, the next day, when she visits. He’s got several Mage Hands scribbling around him, and--she didn’t even think that was  _ possible _ , but, look. Aliens.

“Sister engineered it,” he says, noticing her stare. “Helpful for sciencey and cheffy stuff.”

“What are you sciencing or cheffing, then?”

“Engineering a spell, my man. More Divination than Transmutation, so I’m leanin’ on the kids for it, unfortch, but. It’s an extension of some warlock abilities, effectively.”

“Looks like blueprints.”

“Natch. S’all building. Just different parts. Do you want some cocoa?”

She does. It tastes a bit off, a bit too bitter, but it warms her to her very core.

 

-

 

“You look tired,” her dad says, bringing her a mug of coffee.

“I’m always tired.”

“More’n usual, kid.”

“Says you,” she takes a sip, cringes at the bitter, pours the sugar from the center of the table into her mug for a solid seven-and-a-half seconds.

“I’m old. You’re not.”

“Rhiannon wants me to help take her to Neverwinter. Says the baby needs to be somewhere safer,” she looks up, “We outta cream?”

He levitates the bottle over to her. “She comin’ back?”

“Prob’ly. She’s puttin’ him with his dad’s dad. Just needs a bodyguard for the way there.”

“You gonna leave me with the shop?”

“Friend of mine, one of those three new folks, is willin’ to fill in. “S’a carpenter from some city called Desolèy.”

“Hell’s Desolèy?”

“Somewhere near T-V, wherever that is. Off Faerûn. S’from some dwarven-gnomish foster home. Think it’s a utopian cult, or somethin’ like that, the kind in fun pages of the newspaper.”

“He crazy?”

“Nah. Just a li’l bit weird. Like those three just  _ are _ . You met ‘em?”

Her dad hasn’t. Her dad hasn’t gone out much since her father passed, hasn’t done much at all except for work and worry about her. He barely even goes to temple. Rhiannon and her family do a lot of cooking for them, because Julia’s useless at it, and for the last week, Julia’s been eating on the ship. Which is. Odd, she supposes, but Taako cooks like a pro. Maggie refers to himself as a temporary sous chef, but Taako rejects that ASAP and relegated him to ‘chop boy,’ which he accepts with panache. She brings scraps home for her dad, and to Rhiannon, as a thank you. She learns that they’ve been on the run from something—she’s not sure what—for a good while.

And they’re not crazy.

So she says, “Well, he’s nice. He showed me his woodwork, real good at carving. Could help you with those sculpture orders that Kalen’s been shootin’ at us.”

 

-

 

Lucretia insists upon joining her and Rhiannon on the trip to Neverwinter, in this particular way that Lucretia insists on things. Julia barely knows her, but she’s a character. A Character, capital C, actually. And Rhiannon likes her, thinks she’s a riot and a half, so of course Rhiannon says yes.

“I like Neverwinter,” Lucretia says, casually, as Julia takes the reins.

“Do you have cities as big, where you’re from?”

“Well, Mag and I are from Desolèy, which is about the size of Raven’s Roost, but Tu-Vetrarbrauti, where Taako is from, and where Magnus and I went to school, is maybe three times as large as Neverwinter, actually.”

“I always saw the other continents, as, like—a whole other world, you know? But you guys even  _ sound _ like you’re from here.”

“Oh, well. We’re travelers. Everything kind of fades together. Language, dialects.”

“You’re a  _ terrible liar _ ,” Rhiannon laughs, “There’s something off about you, hon’. I like it.”

“I’m nineteen, let’s not—let’s not patronize me—“

Julia almost stops the car, spits out the sip of juice she was working on.

“You’re  _ nineteen _ ?”

“You’re twenty-two, Julie, there’s not too much—“

“She’s barely outta school! You’re twenty-seven, Rhi, you should be shocked, too—“

“And I am, Jules, you know, but—nineteen and already fully trained in bard magics? The bards at the Queen’s Festival are always at  _ least  _ ten years older than you.”

“Well, training is never done, but. Yes, I suppose. I consider myself a writer above all else.”

“So what instrument do you play?”

“Oh. I—I write. I don’t compose, or anything.”

“Never heard of a bard like that before.”

“Yeah, Luke, think that’s a local thing. Like your brother sleeping, or whatever.”

“I suppose,” Lucretia says, smiles. The baby starts crying, and Lucretia says, “I can tell a story, get some Calm Emotions —“

“Please,” Julia says.

 

-

 

In the sky, right between the suns, there were seven birds.

They had left their home by the clouds to learn what laid beyond what they knew, and they were excited. They were happy. A bright light guided them to see beyond the universe, to places no one had ever seen before.

But something else wanted that light. A, a monster. A living hunger. And it stole the clouds, stole the other birds away.

And so the seven birds ran. Past the suns, past the stars and moons and planets that went all the way to the edges of the universe, and they were alone, but—

but they had each other. 

There were seven birds, and they realized, that the light that had guided them was what had taken everything. And so, they took it apart, and they hid it, in the tiniest corners of the tiniest edge of the multiverse, and it didn’t take well to being split. It hurt innocents, it hurt everyone. It hurt, and—

and one bird ran away, tormented by what the light had done. And another followed. Another tried to make it end, tried to stop the pain in her family, in her friends, in strangers, but her family knew it would hurt them, so she was stopped.

In anger, one left. In anxiety, another followed him, hoping to stop him.

In the sky, right before the sun, there were three birds.

And they had found a home. Found refuge. Found a corner to be safe.

And then, light.

 

-

 

The baby has stopped crying.

Julia has not.

 

-

 

The ten day drive to Neverwinter is boring, frankly. Lucretia and Julia and Rhiannon telling jokes, and the baby crying, and Lucretia telling stories with increasing bittersweetness, like she’s holding something back. Today’s is a scene of world where people give art to a giant jellyfish.

“Did the jellyfish have a name?” Rhiannon asks, laughs.

“Now, that’s another story. A boy gave it a name, once, but it was a terrible name.”

She never says the name. Never gives her characters names, but Julia knows, knows intimately, that this is them. Because it has to be. Because each scene is so tender, so intimate, that it can’t be anything else.

 

-

 

Rhiannon’s ex’s father takes the boy without a word. He’s an old, old man, with old, old money. Julia ends up going back into the carriage while Rhiannon makes sure everything is settled, and she heard Lucretia on a—stone? She’s using it like a stone, at least.

“Nontákn um Lup, izarnwanne” which sounds mildly like Elvish, with some Celestial thrown in, and some other things Julia can’t place, “K’pak, per cit est comsundara, Taako, est neimbakuf. Mag, tuośa est piperte, eh? Y’mite jiyadetu.”

And then, she sees Julia.

“Oh. Hi, Julia, uh—“

“What language is that? From your home planet?”

“Uh. It’s more. It’s ours, specifically. The seven of us. Mix of everything we spoke, growing up. Elvish, Dwarvish, Common, Gnomish, Orc, Celestial—some Infernal, if you caught it—Solade—“

“Solade?”

“Unique human-elf culture where we’re from. Very harmonious. It’s not a common language, not like Common or CSL, but it’s required for our organization.”

“What were you talkin’ about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was teasing Magnus, mostly. And, uh. Giving updates on our teammates. They make me check in every day—we all do. Because we can’t lose each other.” She leans back into the stone-ish-thing, “Myquiyanayas, Julia est conme. Berafia, ok?”

“Quiyanaya’s  _ starbrother,  _ literal translation, right?”

“Yeah,” she says, “In Taako and, uh. Um. Lup’s dialect, it meant, uh, family not by blood but by choice. We’ve been thinking about that a lot, lately. Mags and Taako are—Taako’s feeling particularly hurt, which he has every right to be, but Magnus is—Magnus. He never really had a blood family, only foster homes and, on and off, a dad he hated, so—there’s this whole “Who’s more hurt,” bullshit. Magnus doesn’t get why Taako prioritizes Lup, and Taako doesn’t get that Magnus never had that sort of siblinghood until he met—you know. Me and Barry. So it’s. Difficult to watch.”

“I didn’t think that they were fighting.”

“They don’t, often. I think Magnus stepped in it when he started taking my side in my fights,” and she laughs, “Fuckin’ idiot.”

“I never had anything close to a sibling.”

“You know, neither did I, for a little bit. And then—well. And then, light.”

 

-

 

Rhiannon decides to stay with the baby. Julia understands. Angus deserves a good home, and Rhiannon is a good mother. 

On the way back, Julia tries to talk. Lucretia is a difficult conversation partner, when she’s not tellings stories or jokes.

“Do you ever think about death?” Julia asks, deciding, look, if all else fails, religion’ll keep things interesting.

“Not by choice,” Lucretia says. She is reading a book entitled, _ Iku-mi, Iku-tu: Reapers’ Affairs in the Court of the Raven Queen.  _ “Taako has a suitor,” she clarifies, “Apparently. He is an emissary of your goddess, and he seems, to Magnus, be quite dangerous. In a, quote, very sexy super-spy kind of way.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I mean, look, if a woman came into my home, claimed to work for the death goddess, and seduced me, I would be losing my mind, but my experience with your Queen’s emissaries haven’t always been so positive.”

“You’ve… You’re not actually nineteen, are you?”

“I mean, we saw the edges of the universe. Time can be funny, like that. I’m nineteen, but I’m also one-eighteen, but I’m also half-convinced I’m plain old eighteen, again. The seven of us were our ages for ninety-nine years.”

“Oh.”

“But you’re twenty-two, right? I was twenty-two, once, technically. Never really knew how to quantify it. Cycles three and four. They weren’t so bad. We weren’t really sure what was happening, yet. We were still having birthday parties.”

She decides to try again, because thinking out the semantics of her friends’ space refugee situation is always a bit confusing. Three weeks into it, she knows very little. But she knows that it’s confusing.

“Do you ever think about death?” Julia asks, again.

“It never really mattered before. I guess it should now, but it doesn’t.”

“Can I talk to you about the Raven—“

“There’s a reason your dad’s the cleric and you’re the rogue, Julia, I’ll say.”

 

-

 

Her dad adores Magnus. Her dad also happens to adore Taako, who’s been baking. Julia hasn’t seen her dad this happy since her father died, and--it’s good. It’s good that she could bring happiness into his life. And into her own.

Magnus, she sees, is splayed out on the couch in her living room, three of Taako’s macarons stuffed into his cheeks. 

“Five,” he says, mouth full, at the accusation, and Julia shoves three more into her own mouth.

“Six,” she says, and he flips her off.

 

-

 

Things don’t stay good, of course. It’s not all macarons and fatherly approval of weird alien friends, of  _ fucking  _ course. Taako and Lucretia fight—actually fight, with yelling and screaming—in her backyard, the next morning, and Kalen sets curfew even lower. Her dad gets thrown in jail, out late on delivery, and Julia’s managing the shop alone. With a sous carpenter.

“Wanna fuck Kalen up,” she says, measuring tape stretched almost too much, “Y’know?”

“Yeah,” Magnus says, “I know.”

“He can’t—he can’t just do this. He doesn’t pay full rates, cut the medics’ and the teachers’ pay, and—“

“Made you a duck,” Magnus offers, weakly.

She takes it from his hands, “I want to be the one who gets rid of him.”

“You got your rebellion.”

“I do, but it’s—it’s not organized. Not trained. My dad made sure I knew how to fight, yeah, but—but most’ve the town’s just artists. Or teachers, or medics, or—“

“I can teach ‘em. I used to coach!”

“Coach  _ what _ ?”

“Game called Rebound. I was really good at it. Coaching, I mean. I never learned how to play the sport itself. Goddamn Coach Eric Taylor type speeches, though.”

“Who?”

“Uh. Nobody. Obscure reference, from back home. But I was inspiring as  _ fuck _ , dude.”

“Inspire me, then, spaceman.”

“I don’t work for free, ea—earth. Woman.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says, laughs. Throws the duck at him. He looks offended.

“I can help you for real, though, and I know Luc and T will too.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

She walks over to the circ, cuts with an angry sort of precision.

“This for the bar table?” Magnus asks, clearly knowing the answer.

“Nah, spaceman,” she says, and she smirks. “It’s for a barricade.”

 

-

 

Rhiannon is killed in the last Relic incident Julia hears about. It’s the Staff, again, another dome, another suffocation. Her son and his grandfather are fine, but they don’t come to the burial in Raven’s Roost. Lucretia stands by herself, in the corner of the temple, and Julia would think more of it. But she doesn’t, because, for whatever reason,

everyone leaves early.

 

-

 

Kalen’s talking points change. He talks about the dangers of the outside world less, about the dangers inside more. About the strangers, about the rebellion, and then, not the strangers, just the rebellion. And about insolence on the streets, among the youth. Talks about disrespect, talks about the need to boost up the nobles.

 

-

 

“I can’t stand it, I’m gonna--swear to the Queen, I’m gonna kill him, just--raid the manor now and--”

“Well,” says Magnus, “Isn’t he out in the Wilds, now? Let’s, uh, slow down, a little bit--”

“Nah, I wanna kill him, and--I want him gone before the Queen’s Festival.”

“And I’m  _ down _ , but I’m just sayin’ that you’re not gonna get it done alone. We need to strategize, right? And I’m all about, like, rushing-in, reckless do-goodery, but--Jules, there’s no way to go back in time and fix what we fuck up.”

“Well, Mags, that means we gotta get it  _ right _ .”

“And  _ that  _ means we gotta strategize.”

“Rushing in and reckless do-goodery my  _ ass _ ,” she says, pokes his chest.

“Well,” he says, and he winks. He fails at winking, so he says, “Wink,” aloud, “There’s one thing I’m willing to rush into that I’ll definitely do good at.”

“Why, Mr. Burnsides,” she faux-gasps, “Are you propositioning me?”

He instantly falls to nerves, “I wanna bang, that--that cool? It’s cool if it’s not--”

“It’s definitely cool, you’re just being a fucking loser about it.”

And she pulls him up the staircase, laughing.

 

-

 

Julia’s fucked out-of-towners before.

Julia’s never fucked an out-of-towner like Maggie.

He’s big, but he’s soft, he eats her out ‘til she screams, and he looks at her like she hung the moon, and--

And fuck, he’s not like those other out-of-towners at all. He’s gonna stick around.

And, well,

Julia is perfectly okay with that, some big pretty alien wrapped around her finger, wrapped in her blankets, wrapped up in _ her. _

 

-

 

The rebellion has taken to meet on the ship, at least as far as leadership goes. The aliens, who don’t quite tell others that they’re aliens, are all terrifyingly skilled at what they do. Lucretia helps Julia write, Taako helps teach magic--he’s an ass, it’s clear, but he’s damn  _ good  _ at it, too. And Magnus--Magnus is Magnus is Magnus. He fights, and he gives nerdy pep talks, and he dotes over animals and is just overall charming.

And then, halfway through a meeting, static.

On the comms--that’s what Magnus calls it, says it’s  _ super sci-fi _ \--there is a voice that Julia has never heard in her life.

“Nightingale, Magpie, Astrapia, do you read?”   


“Barry?” Magnus rushes over to the console.

“Nightingale, Magpie, Astrapia, this is Vulture, do you  _ read _ ?”

“Uh, Vulture, this is Magpie--why do you get the cool bird again? Where--are you alive?”

Magnus starts clearing people out, silently, Lucretia pushing and giving quick chameleon charms for a lack of notice. Taako doesn’t do  _ shit.  _ And Julia--

Julia doesn’t leave, even as her father tugs at her sleeve.

“Magpie, I’m alone, I’m being--chased. I found the Bell, and--”

“Any sign of Cormorant, Owl, Phoenix?”

“No, no, no, but--but Magpie, are the others with you?”

“We’re here,” says Lucretia, meeker than Julia is used to, “Me and Astrapia.”

(She wants to shout, me too, I’m here, and you broke your family’s hearts,  _ and _ you ruined my planning meeting).

“I need you to trust me, I know I--”

Taako sits directly on top of Magnus, says, “Fuck you,” into the comms, and hangs up.

“The Bell,” says Julia, “Like the weapon?”

“It’s the one he made,” says Magnus, whose arms are wrapped around Taako in something close to an embrace.

“What do you mean?”

“When we came here, and we made--”

“You made--”

“You didn’t know?” Magnus is looking up at her, and bile is piling in her throat, and her hand is on the handle of her knife, and she let these people  _ into her home _ and  _ into her revolution  _ and into her  _ bed _ \--

She walks out, and she doesn’t think about looking back.

 

-

 

The Bulwark Staff killed exactly sixty people before it was forgotten.

 

-

 

“I told you, you know,” says Lucretia, outside of her window.

“You told me in a  _ story _ .”

She shuts the window, closes the curtains. They fly open again.

“We damned this world, Julia, and we all know it. We don’t know how to talk about it, not amongst ourselves--Lup went out to go fix it, and when she didn’t come back,  _ I  _ tried to fix it. And I failed. And then, the other three left.”

“Which one did you make, Lucretia?”

She assumes it’s one of the ones she’s barely heard of--the cup, maybe, or the eyeglass.

“The Staff,” she says, simply, and Julia closes the window again only to punch straight through it.

“ _ You. _ ”

“You have experience, then--”

“My father--and RHi--they were trapped in one of your fucking  _ domes _ , and--my dad’s been  _ broken  _ since he died, do you under--and you killed him! You killed Jorma Waxmen, you killed Rhiannon McDonald, and--”

“And.”

“And you’re just a  _ kid _ , and you killed my fucking father. You fucking took--so much from me.”

 

-

 

Life goes on. The aliens--she doesn’t call them their names, doesn’t tell her dad why she’s not speaking to them anymore--stay, but they don’t bother her. Sometimes, she sees a man who frequents the temple and nowhere else slip into the ship and she wonders if they’ve told  _ him  _ that they killed the world, yet.

 

-

 

Kalen brings back public executions. It was inevitable.

Steven Waxmen is the first victim.

 

-

 

Julia’s mouth tastes like blood.

In October, she gets into a barfight for the first time in the six-and-a-half months since the aliens arrived. It’s with a guard--one she recognizes if only because he’s the one Magnus--the alien who made the cup--took out the first day they met--encountered each other.

He calls her a traitor, and she calls him a violent pig, and it gets nastier, and it gets more violent, and she’s unarmed, and she’s losing, and part of her wants to los, and she’s alone, and--

And then, light.

 

-

 

“Are you okay?” Magnus is asking, and she’s in--her house. She’s in her bedroom, still in the clothes from last night. There’s a cut on her forehead that she picks at, with difficulty.

“Don’t wanna strain yourself. Luc was out of spell slots after we took that guy, uh.  _ Oouuuuut _ , but. She’ll have some healing spells ready soon.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” her voice is hoarse.

“Last night was Luc’s twentieth, which, uh. Legal drinking age in this part of the continent, we heard? It was eighteen back home, so she’s technically been good, but. So we brought her out, did the whole, uh. Shindig. And we heard your voice, and, well, we heard shit go down, so the three of us kinda. Ran. And you were almost out, so Luc got a barrier up over you and we kicked that fucker’s ass.”

“He okay?”

“He’s more. Unokay.”

“He dead?”

“No, just documented.”

“Hm?”

“Should go. T put soup on the stove for you, if you want it. Y’added extra carrots, because you, uh. Like, you said you--like ‘em.”

“Why--?”

“Get some sleep, Jules.”

 

-

 

Jorma Waxmen, Julia’s father, told her a story about protection, and it goes like this:

If someone saves you, you save them. There’s gotta be balance, baby. Once upon a time, there was a woman named Dove, and she saved the life of Lady Istus, and Lady Istus saved Dove by giving her a purpose. And so she would protect people, Dove, by telling them their futures.

 

-

 

There’s a story that Jorma never told his daughter, and it goes like this:

The future protects, much like a shield, but you have to hold it up.

 

-

 

She meets Taako’s suitor by accident, as she heads into the temple for her daily mourning prayer.

The Reaper is handsome, sure. Half-elf, tall, dark skin, hair in long, gold-beaded dreads. Has an intimidating aura, but in an alluring kind of way.

“Have you seen, uh, Taako, around here, by any chance?” he asks, in a voice that is definitely not his natural one.

“No. Uh. You’re the Queen’s emissary, right?”

“I--you know that?”

She knows a lot of things, she tells him, and he says that he does too. He says that he knows about the meetings, about the stolen goods, and he says, well, Miss Waxmen, I think that you’re doing good. How about some divine intervention? A quid-pro-quo. And of course, she says yes.

“Kravitz.”

“Julia.”

“It’s good to do business with you, Julia.”

"Can I ask why you can't do it yourself?"

Kravitz looks away, says, "Well, I've been... compromised."

 

-

 

So now, Julia’s priorities are, like, number one, kill Kalen, number two, help the goddess of death take down an alien she fucked and his family, number  _ three _ , function like a normal person. This makes the third objective a little bit harder than it should be, and, God knows why, but she’s venting about it to Beow and Magnus. Mostly because it’s a Tuesday night, and because Magnus is the only customer, drinking a soda, and Beow owns the damn place and half of his staff’s locked up, so.

She’s drunk, to say the least. She would yell at Magnus, otherwise, but she’s feeling friendly, not fighty, tonight.

“And, like--I think I’m a  _ good person _ ?”

“You are,” Magnus says, “This place have a jukebox?”

“A what?”

“Never mind.”

“But--but I don’t get why the Goddess would, like--”

“Julie, are you good?” Beow asks, and Magnus sets another pocket of gold on the bar.

“Mead, this time. Two of ‘em.”

She takes one, chugs it.

“You’re a good guy, Maggie,” she says, “‘Cept for the whole superweapons thing.”

“Um,” he says.

“I mean, also, you committed death crimes, or whatev--”

“Julia, we’re kinda in public--”

“I’m not payin’ attention,” says Beow, “I don’t even know what she’s talking about, sounds real fuzzy.”

 

-

 

And therein lies the weird part--the acceptance of the spaceship in town, the casual uplifted mood of her father, and Beow not being able to hear her--there’s something weird. No big deal is made of her barfight with the guard, nothing is made of anything at all.

Except for Kravitz, who is a demigod-or-something. But that’s the exception.

 

-

 

Seven, thirteen, nineteen.

 

-

 

“I don’t trust you,” she tells the three of them, having broken into the ship for the first time since she found out.

“You’ve made that clear.”

“Why don’t people talk about the Wars?”

“Safer to make ‘em forget,” says Lucretia, tosses a popcorn kernel into Magnus’ mouth, “We documented it. You can remember because--which one of you--?”

“Wasn’t me,” says Magnus, working on another kernel.

“Taako, then. Inoculated you.”

“Inoculation is such a  _ you  _ word,” Taako complains, opens his mouth for a kernel, which Lucretia tosses his way, “I was still mad, sue me. Wanted to make sure people knew what a fuck you were being.”  
  
“I think it was smart,” Magnus says, “Julia’s good. And she’s smart, and--”

“And you’re a corny asshole, Mags, but. Yes, Taako, it was a smart move.”

 

-

 

Once upon a time, there was a boy who found a jellyfish. He gave it a stupid name.

 

-

 

“You can’t just--kill the world and make people forget,” she says, because they can’t just kill the world and make people forget.

“Would you rather the world continue to die?”   
  


-

 

“The three lowest death counts in their whole group, actually,” Kravitz had said, “Lowest bounties, but dangerous nonetheless. And they’re  _ liars _ , and--they say they don’t know where the other four are, but I  _ know  _ that they know, I just know it!”

Seven, thirteen, nineteen.

 

-

 

“Where are your friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have the three lowest bounties of your group, and I’m thinking that the Raven Queen’s gonna help us a helluva lot more if I can take all of you down.”

 

-

 

“You killed the world,” says Julia, with Magnus pinned. He’s going easy on her, she’s seen him fight before. He’s sneakier than he gives himself credit for, “You killed my father, knowing he couldn’t avoid inevitabilities like you. You let my dad  _ die _ , knowing he couldn’t avoid inevitabilities like you. You let Rhi, and so many others die, knowing they wouldn’t come back.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You should have considered that before you made seven fucking hell-creations, before you put this world into war. You know, war doesn’t stop when people forget why it started."

"The Raven Queen wouldn't want this," he says, "The Raven Queen knows that--that we were forced into what we did."

His face isn’t afraid. It’s not angry, it’s not--it’s not really anything. He’s smiling, not smugly. His long hair frames his face. She looks at him, looks into his eyes, and he says, “Kill me," in the most genuine tone she's ever heard.

 

-

 

But she can’t.

She lets him up, because she can’t.

“I’m not different from anyone else on this planet. You idealized me as this--this hero, when I’m just a woman in a town where bad things happen.”

“And you were our friend,” says Lucretia, “That makes you different. This is the one hundredth place we’ve ever lived, the three of us. And you just wanted to be our friend. Didn’t want our Light, our knowledge, anything, just… us.”

 

-

 

Once upon a time, a girl hurt her family, and it took time, but her brothers forgave her.

Once upon a time, a family hurt a world, and it took time, but--

But hopefully, it would forgive them.

 

-

 

Kravitz says that he understands, and Julia almost asks why, until she sees the way Taako holds his hand, the way he kisses Taako.

“I’ve disposed of their bounties.”

“And are they--”

“Julia, they’re good people. I promise you this. Their comrade, the lich Bluejeans, is perhaps--not, but.”

“But.”

 

-

 

Things do not get better immediately. She yells at Magnus, yells at Taako and Lucretia, and--and it’s well-deserved, she thinks, and they say as much.

They did not kill the world on purpose, she reminds herself.

 

-

 

Once upon a time, there was a woman who fell in love with a boy from the sky, and that’s the corniest love story ever told.

 

-

 

She starts sleeping with Magnus again, trying to dissociate him from Magnus Burnsides Security Specialist And Student Zoologist, Creator Of A Grand Relic.

The scars aren’t ignorable, though. Marks on his chest from surgery, tiny scrapes from falls, stabs and slices from fights. A cut over his (lazy) eye, curving toward his nose. She can’t ignore the tattoos, still so fresh. Seven birds, a bear, a duck, the Starblaster, Fisher, two suns, everything--

She cannot fully forget that this man is not of this world, that this man has seen things so much larger than a town’s rebellion, that this man has never spent this long anywhere before.

So she gives them fake meanings in her mind. The surgery scars, the fall scars, they’re already justifiable. That’s--that’s fine. And the battle scars, were it not for the number, they’re explicable, and--and the tattoos are just things he likes, and--

And she’s kissing him, not looking at him anymore, and he says, in a language she doesn’t understand,  _ maguekaha, magueketa _ , between breaths.

“My revolution,” he says, as she’s inches away from sleep, “My love. S’what it means. Solades. Language of unity. Of peace. Thought it was stupid, that I had to learn it. But it’s nice, isn’t it? S’where my name comes from, too, maguenós,  _ my protector _ . I chose it. Thought it was pretty dope.”

“I thought it was just because it sounded very high adventure.”

“I mean, that too.”

 

-

 

The raid on the manor is the night before the Queen’s Festival The town is loud but not lit up, it is busy--noise is not unexpected. Julia sneaks in, sets up the traps, clears out the staff. The mercs from Neverwinter capture guards, and the well-trained fighters of the rebellion take watch.

Which leaves the strangers with Julia.

They’re not strangers, anymore. Nobody calls them that. People call them their names. Kravitz calls Taako darling, Julia calls Magnus babe, The assortment of girls trying to court Lucretia each have a different name for her.

But they’re  _ strangers _ , in that they’re strange, in that they caused the apocalypse, but they are so soft, in that Taako needs to sleep and Lucretia is twenty but not twenty, in that Magnus’ heart is on the wrong side of his chest. In that she can’t make herself dislike them for the Relics, for--everything, no matter how much she feels morally obligated to.

But the strangers are dead useful in a fight. 

Kalen looks like he’s been waiting for them. He’s wearing spectacles, which he doesn’t need, and they’re broken, which he definitely wouldn’t do. They’re probably magically attuned, or something.

Taako casts Light, and Julia remembers, oh yeah. Humans can’t see in the dark. Kalen’s half-elf, Taako’s an elf, so this is a fucking--

She almost laughs.

 

-

 

“Where’d you get those glasses, Gov?” asks Magnus, and then, realizing the line’s roughness, he adds, “Ernor Kalen.”

“Found ‘em in the Wilds.”

“So you’re corpse robbing, now. Seems below you.”

“Those are--” Lucretia starts.

“I know,” says Taako.

Julia’s about to deliver a one liner, but Magnus interrupts as he rushes in.

 

-

 

Governor Basilan Kalen died on the night before the Raven Queen’s festival, wearing the broken spectacles of a lich and holding the sword of a dead blacksmith.

Julia Waxmen delivered the final blow.

 

-

 

The festival is nice. Julia’s been out of it, angry and sad and numb, for months, and this is--this is almost calm. She shows Magnus around, wins him a goldfish in a carnival game, which makes him weep tears of joy. Taako and Kravitz make out in the temple, which given Kravitz’ status, is probably a  _ super  _ desecration of the Queen’s name. And Lucretia--Lucretia is entertaining a crowd.

And Julia is feeling happy, for once, since this all began.

A bard plays a song, and the sun starts to set, and children are slowly led home by their parents.

“Is this where it gets  _ weird _ ?” Magnus asks, “I have been to _ a lot  _ of accidental sex festivals. Like, is this... Raven Queen Fest: _Nights_. And all that.”

“The Raven Queen encourages living life to the fullest. Being with people you love, because--”

“Someday, we will all be one,” He smiles, “I know the line.”

“It’s important!”

“Do you wanna go,” he gestures, in his usual way, which is to say, like a doofus, “ _Be one_?”

 

-

 

They’re spooning, after, when he says, “We’re gonna leave next week. Only for a little bit.”

“What?”

“Barry is a lich, now. He’ll be easier to track, and--”

“But you’re  _ leaving _ ?”   


She wraps her arms a little tighter.

“It’s just til we find him. Just--”

“I’m coming with you.”

“But the shop--”

“But it’s closing regardless. I can’t run this, Mags, it’s not--”

“You’re so--good--”

“And I need to leave.”

“It’s not gonna be safe. And you deserve better than... us. Than association with us.”

She traces the jellyfish tattooed on his shoulder.

“Do you really think I care about safe?”

 

-

 

The day after they leave, Raven’s Roost is bombed by a supporter of Kalen. Julia weeps, and the three strangers are--

empathetic.

Taako cooks something he ate with his sister growing up, transmutates stones into spices that don’t exist here. Magnus cries, as he eats it, and Julia does too. She wishes she knew something like this to remember home by.

Lucretia paints scenes of Desolèy, and Julia eases herself into it, finds solace in graphite and watercolor. 

They don’t find Barry. They don’t find Taako’s sister, or the “old men” that Magnus calls his dads and that Taako calls traitors.

Until:

 

-

 

Julia is on a beach, alone. The aliens have gone to search for a man named Gundren Rockseeker, who lives around here. She lets herself cry, lets herself throw rocks into the ocean, when a man walks up to her.

“Whatcha doin’ here, horns?”

“Mourning,” she says.

“Who died?”

“My town.”

“I lost my home too,” he says, and he puts an arm around her. She does not flinch.

“My boyfriend and his siblings--they’re kind about it. They’re helpful, they’ve lived through it, too. And their family abandoned them. Left them to die alone, and two of them, they were barely adults, and--”

She doesn’t look at the man.

“I left my family,” he says, “Couldn’t bear to see ‘em suffer, and--”

“Why were they suffering?”

“Oh, whenever I say, no one can hear me. Dumb trick of this girl I know.”

And she looks at him, and she stares, and she thinks about photographs. Magnus has a lot in his--their?--room on the ship, and Julia is fascinated by them.

And this man is featured heavily in them.

“Davenport?” she asks.

And the man  _ cackles _ , calls out “Dav!”

 

-

 

“Found your dads,” says Julia, still a little choked up. As the gang reenters the ship. Merle waves, pathetically, and Davenport stands still, awkward.

“Got lost,” Merle says, “ended up at the beach.”

“We were  _ looking _ for you.”

And Julia leaves. Walks back to the room. And she lets herself weep, because she will never have this, because her fathers are dead, because she will never see them until they are in the sea.

And perhaps that’s what this is. They are by the sea, after all.

 

-

 

Julia finds a staff, one day, and Lucretia takes it out of her hands and snaps it in half.

 

-

 

When Julia Waxmen was young she wanted to travel the world. She read comic books, listened to bard-songs about the journeys of heroes, and decided, that’ll be me. The Raven Queen honors adventurers, grants them Reaper status--she could be like the pretty half-elf man who watches over the temple, who keeps the world in balance, just like the stories say.

When Julia Waxmen was young, her fathers decided to forge her two knives, and teach her how to fight.

Julia Waxmen decides that she will fight for them.

 

-

 

The day the liches show up, Julia’s mouth tastes like hard candy. It is three years after the aliens aliens arrived, two years and three months after the old men arrived. She has never felt quite in-place here, but she is  _ happy _ .

As happy as she can be, at least. She has a husband, who loves her. Two old men, a girl, an elf and a Reaper. A little boy, who she saw being born, who is four years old and talking better than Julia ever has. Angus McDonald, son of Rhiannon McDonald, nervous little orphan boy and newest space refugee, and absolutely Taako Yuno’s only weakness.

But:

The day the liches show up, Julia’s mouth tastes like hard candy.

There is fighting, and screaming, and hugging, and Julia does not feel like she’s supposed to be there. 

“We’re going to be happy, someday,” she says, to no one.

(The future protects, much like a shield, but you have to hold it up.)

“You know what? I think that we are,” says Kravitz.

 

-

 

“I always wanted to be an adventurer,” she comments, as they walk through this mine that Lup insists contains the Gauntlet they need to destroy.

“Haven’t you always been one?” Magnus asks.

**Author's Note:**

> some quick notes!
> 
> i gave each bird a code name, because We Love Code Names.  
> -taako is astrapia, a bird-of-paradise! known for beauty, showboating, and being difficult as fuck to spot. they are often mixed up with lup's bird, which is of course  
> -phoenix, like. fire and rebirth and shit, like. that's canon. you know that.  
> -lucretia is nightingale--easy to underestimate, known as a poetic/literary muse, and symbolizing loss.  
> -magnus is magpie, because he is bad at coming up with names, but also because they're fiercely protective, and are seen as omens--thus, like, there's a divination connection.  
> -barry is vulture because We Love Death Birds Babey! intimidating and interesting and smart.  
> -merle is owl because owl is merle  
> -dav is cormorant because they're often used for sailors lost at sea! i just thought that was neat
> 
> -julia is a rogue, with the assassin archetype. she's very good at flipping and very bad at controlling her anger.  
> -magnus is supposed to be read as trans here??? i hope that came across. i am nb, but if i fucked up @ all please tell me!  
> -none of the languages used are dnd languages--just mash-ups of words i know in earth languages fit into certain rules and w/ (largely) phonetic spellings. specifically, i used bits of yiddish, igbo, spanish, english, basque, and quechua. i am fluent in english & spanish, but the others are languages i've picked up thru family, friends, or media osmosis. magnus and lucretia's shared hometown's name is based on hatian creole, and the city taako claims to be from--the location of the ipre has a name made up of icelandic + spanish parts.
> 
> violetbeach.com for my original writing
> 
> please comment if you liked it! if you have any questions! or whatever! i love you!


End file.
